Body Switch
by TakerTakeMe
Summary: COMPLETE! Torrie Wilson invents a body switching machine and convinces Batista and the Undertaker to try it out with her. Who ends up in whose body and more importantly, how will they get back?
1. Stuck

**WWE owns them all...**

"Hey Torrie, you wanted to see me?" Batista asked as he entered Torrie's locker room. About 20 minutes ago, he had finished his match against the Undertaker, where he had lost the WWE championship. It had been a long match, and he was very tired. He had taken a shower and wanted nothing more than to hop into his rental car and head to the hotel, where he planned to fall asleep right away, probably as soon as his head hit the pillow.

"That's correct," Torrie answered, coming over to greet him. "Now, come sit down on the couch and wait a minute. The Undertaker should be here in a few minutes."

"Why is the Undertaker going to be here with us?" he asked her. "I mean, Taker is cool and everything, but I just lost my championship to him. Do you really think I want to be in the same room with him right now?"

"Just chill out. I need both of you if this is going to work," she said.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "What do you need us both for?"'

"Sit," she ordered, fire burning in her eyes.

He held up his hands before him. "Ok, ok, I'll sit." He sat down on the couch to wait.

There was a knock at the door. Torrie rushed over to the door and opened it. And there the Undertaker stood, tall, dark, and sexy as ever. Torrie felt herself getting lost in his beautiful green eyes, those eyes that scorched her soul without knowing it. Oh, how she wanted to tell him!

"Torrie," Taker spoke.

"Yes, Taker?" she answered in a husky voice.

"You're drooling." He smirked as she hurriedly wiped her mouth with her sleeve and gave him an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry, come on in," she said.

Taker walked about two steps into the room and noticed Batista over on the couch. "What is this?" he asked Torrie, eyebrows raised. "Some kind of weird little threesome?"

"Just sit down, please," Torrie asked him, indicating that he should sit down next to Batista. "I need you both if this is going to work."

"This better be good," Taker grumbled, taking a seat next to Batista. He acknowledged Batista with a slight nod of his head and got the same acknowledgement in return. Then both men looked expectantly up at Torrie.

"For quite some time now, I've been working on developing this machine," Torrie began. "Before you guys start asking questions, let me tell you all about it. This machine is called 'The Machine That You Get In That Will Let You Switch Bodies With Someone' but for short, let's just call it Project TMTYGITWLYSBWS," she said.

Batista raised his hand like he was a student in a classroom.

"Yes?" Torrie asked, obviously annoyed that he had the audacity to interrupt her speech.

"Why don't you just call it The Body Switcher?" Batista asked.

"Oh. I didn't think of that," she answered. "I'm a blonde, remember?"

"That's not an excuse for being dumb," Taker said. "I've known plenty of smart blonde girls."

"Name one," Batista challenged. "I'll bet you a hundred bucks that you can't name just one."

"Er... Um... Damn, you got me there," Taker said with a laugh.

"Pay up," Batista said, laughing as well.

"PAY ATTENTION!" Torrie yelled, causing both men to jump a little in their seats.

They both looked back up at her.

"Thank you," she said sweetly.

"Damn, what's up her ass?" Batista whispered to Taker.

"I don't know, but I can think of some things that could go up there," Taker joked back.

"Now, back to what I was saying... What was I saying?" she asked.

"You were talking about your new machine," Batista said.

"Right. Well, I've now decided to name it The Body Switcher," she said. "When two or more people get in this machine together, they switch bodies with each other."

"Impossible. This isn't Sci-Fi," Taker said.

"You should really stick to the bra and panties matches," Batista said. "They're the only thing you're good at."

"True," Taker agreed emphatically.

"It will work," Torrie said impatiently. "I just need two willing people to try it out, and I think those two willing people should be the two of you."

"You said willing people," Batista said. "Who said we were willing?"

"You'll be willing," she said. "You'll be willing if you want a part of the reward at the end."

"And what's the reward?" Taker questioned.

"Why, a night with me, of course!" she exclaimed.

"Say no more. Just direct me to the machine!" Batista exclaimed, standing up.

"Follow me, boys," she said. She walked over to the far corner and unveiled her machine.

The machine was black and shiny with lots of lights on it.

"Um, are those... Are those Christmas lights?" Taker asked.

"Yeah. Don't they look nice?" she said happily. "But we're not here to admire the lights." She opened the door to the machine. "Who wants to go in first?"

"You go," Taker said to Batista.

"No way, you first," Batista replied.

"You guys! Fine, I'll go first," Torrie said. "Come on in, I can operate the machine from the inside."

They reluctantly followed her into the machine. She shut the door behind them, then walked over to the control panel. "Ready to switch bodies, guys?"

"Yeah, as if this is really gonna work," Taker said, nudging Batista. "We're gonna be in here just standing here."

"For real, we sure are," Batista said, laughing.

"Oh yeah, one more thing," Torrie said. They looked at her. "There's no guarantee whose body you're going to end up in."

"What?" Taker asked.

Torrie decided not to answer. She started pushing buttons. The machine starting beeping and shaking.

"Whoa, what the hell?" Batista shouted. "Are we on a roller coaster or something?"

"It'll all be over in a minute," Torrie shouted back.

She was right. In a minute, it was all over.

"I feel so dizzy. What the hell just happened?" came Taker's voice... But the voice came from Batista's body.

"You have my face!" Torrie's voice said to her body... Which was now occupied by Batista. She scratched her head as she looked at the body she now occupied, arms covered with tattoos and the name "Sara" tattooed across her neck.

"I have boobs!" Batista exclaimed, feeling on Torrie's breasts, which were now his own.

"Ok, your machine works. Now it's time to switch back," Taker said. "This is just too weird."

"No, let's not switch back yet. I've always wanted to know what it felt like to have boobs," Batista said as he played with his new nipples. "Oh, so that's how they get hard!"

"Um, guys, I forgot to mention one thing," Torrie said from Taker's body. "I haven't yet figured out how to switch the bodies back..."

**I wanna make this a funny story... I'll update as soon as I think of something interesting to write!**


	2. Busted!

**WWE owns them all...**

_**QUICK NOTE**_

_**Batista-Torrie: Batista in Torrie Wilson's body**_

_**Taker-Batista: The Undertaker in Batista's body**_

_**Torrie-Taker: Torrie Wilson in The Undertaker's body**_

"Run that by me one more time," Taker-Batista said unbelievingly.

"Basically, we're stuck like Chuck," Batista-Torrie summarized for Taker.

"Yeah, what he...er, she? What he-she said," Torrie-Taker said.

Taker-Batista shook his head, appalled at how such a dumb ass had acquired his body.

"She," Batista-Torrie said matter-of-factly. "I love my new body. I can finally get in touch with my feminine side without being called gay."

"Just so you know, I'll still consider you gay whenever we switch back," Taker-Batista informed him. "And you'll never be able to persuade me otherwise."

"You... You're so unfair!" Batista-Torrie said in a high-pitched voice as his eyes filled with tears. He ran into the corner to cry.

"You're so sensitive!" Taker-Batista said, rolling his eyes.

"You big meanie!" Torrie-Taker yelled, shoving Taker-Batista into a wall. Then she walked over to what used to be her body. "Shhh, Batista, it's ok," she began in a soothing voice. She put her arms around him and he cried into her hair. "Let his insults run off of you like water running down...er...a...what's that thing?" She thought for a minute, her face screwed up in concentration. "The itsy bitsy spider went up the... Oh yeah, it's called a water spout!"

"Don't hit me again, you big oaf!" Taker-Batista exclaimed, rubbing his arm as he angrily watched his body hugging Batista-Torrie. "Or there's gonna be some consequences! And quit hugging him!"

"It's a her, not a him!" Torrie-Taker said. "Didn't you hear what he said, little man?"

"Who you calling little man?" Taker-Batista asked, the anger evident in his voice. "I'm definitely not a little man."

"Yes, you are," Batista-Torrie said, glaring at him. "Look at you! Torrie here is taller than you."

Taker-Batista was so mad when he remembered that Torrie was now the bigger man _and _the WWE champion. He looked at her, then said the only thing he could think of. "I'm telling Vince!"

"You wouldn't!" Torrie-Taker said, her eyes wide with fear.

"I would," Taker-Batista challenged. "In fact, I'm gonna go tell him right now."

"Whatever," Torrie-Taker said. "Like Vince is gonna believe that a dumb ass like me invented a body switching machine."

She was right, of course, but Taker-Batista wasn't going to admit that. No way in hell was he gonna admit that some blonde had figured something out that he hadn't thought of.

_Maybe it's because she's occupying my body now_, Taker-Batista thought as he headed out the door. _Yeah, that's what gave her a little sense_.

"Batista!" a feminine voice called from behind him as he headed down the hall towards Vince McMahon's office. It took him a second before he realized the voice was talking to him.

"What?" Taker-Batista asked, turning around to face Melena, the manager of MnM.

"You know what. Time for our usual," Melena said. "Hurry up, you slowpoke!" she exclaimed impatiently. When he just stood there looking at her, wondering what the hell was going on, she grabbed his hand and led him to the nearest unoccupied room, which just happened to be some sort of supply room.

"Why are we in here?" Taker-Batista asked curiously when Melena shut the door behind them and the room was pitch black.

"Batista, we've been doing this since we met," she replied, hurriedly trying to pull his shirt over his head. She successfully pulled the shirt off, then started kissing his chest. "Your body! I just love your body."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Taker-Batista said.

She stopped kissing his chest, and he guessed that she was now looking up at him, or at least trying to peer up at him in the dark.

"What's wrong with your voice?" she asked after a minute.

"My... My voice?" Taker-Batista gulped. "N-nothing. I sound like this all the time!"

"No... You sound like the Undertaker," she said accusingly.

"I'm sorry, my voice is acting all weird tonight," he said, trying to fix the situation.

"Keep it like that. There's no one I'd love to do more than the Original Deadman!" she squealed, before jumping on him.

Quite a while later, they both walked out of the little supply room, trying to fix their clothes.

"I never knew a woman could rape a man," Taker-Batista said wonderingly.

"Your fault. It was your voice!" she explained. "Taker's voice is such a turn on for me."

"Then let me ask you a question. Why haven't you ever tried to talk to Taker?" he asked her.

"How do you know I haven't?" she asked.

"Let's just say Taker and I are pretty close. I know him really well, and I'd know if you ever hit on him or anything."

"Is that so?"

"Yep," he said, nodding emphatically. "We're good friends. We go waaaaay back."

"Well, give him my number!" she said, smiling as brightly as she possibly could. "Tell him to give me a call and I'll make it worth his while, if what we just did in the supply room was any indication."

"I'll tell him... Ok, see ya later," Taker-Batista said. He smiled as he headed back to Torrie's locker room. Torrie had been right; Vinnie Mac would never believe that she'd invented a body switching machine. The only thing left to do was to go back and try to fix the damn thing by himself.

He heard strange noises as he approached the door. _No, they wouldn't_, he thought, quickly dismissing the thought that they could be doing the nasty in there. He opened the door to find something very graphic and...well, pretty damn disgusting going on over in the corner.

"Oh, Taker!" Batista-Torrie squealed in a girlish voice.

"I'm Torrie, remember?" Torrie-Taker said with a moan.

"But you have Taker's sexy body right now," Batista-Torrie said.

They both jumped when the door slammed shut.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Taker-Batista thundered, and the walls shook...

"Oh shit! We're totally..." Batista-Torrie began.

"...Busted!" Torrie-Taker finished for him.

**Dumb, I know, but I found some parts to be kinda funny when I wrote them! Update coming soon!**


	3. WHAT THE HELL?

**WWE owns them all!**

WHAT THE HELL!

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Taker-Batista thundered again.

"We can explain!" Torrie-Taker said quickly.

"But not before you finish. I'm right on the edge!" Batista-Torrie yelled. "Give it to me, Taker!"

"I'm not Taker!" Torrie-Taker yelled again, but gave it to him nonetheless.

Taker-Batista was in awe. Here he was, watching his body do things to Torrie Wilson's body that he'd only dreamed about... Except really it was Torrie doing Batista and everything was just so twisted when he thought about it that way.

"Are you gonna watch, or are you gonna join in?" Torrie-Taker called over to him.

"Hell no, I'm not gonna join in," Taker-Batista said. "Besides, I just got a little action from Melena..."

A few minutes later, Torrie-Taker and Batista-Torrie were fully dressed. They all sat down to discuss what they were going to do. Taker-Batista was pissed about what had happened with his body and Torrie's body, but he knew he didn't have a right to be. He'd used Batista's body with Melena, and if given the opportunity, if he was still in his own body he would've done Torrie, too! So he really couldn't blame Torrie for using his body to do her own...

"Now, I still don't know how we're going to get our bodies back," Torrie-Taker said. "I mean, I'm an engineer. I did make the machine, but I'm not intelligent enough to figure out the whole mechanism of the..."

"Torrie, speak normal," Taker-Batista said.

"Speak blonde," Batista-Torrie said with a snicker.

"I don't know how I'm going to fix this damn thing!" Torrie-Taker wailed. "But what I do know is that I have a big match tomorrow against Melena."

"I have to fight my girl?" Batista-Torrie asked, shocked.

"If we don't figure out how to reverse the effects of this machine, you're gonna be rolling around in the mud with her tomorrow night," Torrie-Taker told him.

"Damn, that sucks," Batista-Torrie said.

"No, what sucks is the fact that I have to defend my belt against JBL tomorrow night, and instead it'll be _you _defending it," Taker-Batista said to Torrie. "I'll lose for sure!"

"You have no faith in me?" Torrie-Taker asked.

"Want the truth? No, I have no faith in you when it comes down to my body," Taker-Batista said truthfully. "That's why I'll be watching you like a hawk tonight at the hotel because I don't want you harming my body in any way."

"I'm not gonna harm your body, you mean ass," Torrie-Taker cried, then immediately got up and attempted to run out the door.

"Where are you going?" Taker-Batista asked, right as Batista-Torrie screamed, "Watch out for that door!"

Torrie-Taker turned around and saw the door just in time, but she didn't stop running. _He doesn't trust me with his stupid body and he already thinks I'll harm it, so why not_, she thought. She kept running straight towards the door, building up momentum.

"Nooooooooo!" Taker-Batista yelled, but Torrie-Taker paid no attention.

Torrie-Taker ran straight into the door, nearly knocking the heavy door right off its hinges. "That's gonna leave a bruise," she said with a laugh, and kept running. She was gonna go have a little fun using the Undertaker's awesomely sexy body...

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, wondering where to go. Suddenly, Taker-Batista came up behind her and tackled her.

"What the hell? You animal, get the hell off me!" Torrie-Taker screamed. "Help! Help! Raaaaaaaaaape!"

"Hush!" Taker-Batista ordered her.

Even though Torrie-Taker was literally the bigger and more powerful of the two, Torrie immediately got quiet. It was Taker's voice. She would obey it no matter what...

"Get back in your locker room," Taker-Batista told her, helping her up and shoving her to get her going.

"Ok," Torrie-Taker said, her head hanging down sadly as she entered the room. She was ashamed of her spiteful behavior already. Before she entered the room, she turned around to look at him. "I'm sorry I was so bad... Are you gonna spank me, Daddy?"

"You wait until we get our bodies back and then ask me that," he replied, smirking. "Or better yet, don't ask. I'm gonna spank you like you've never been spanked."

"Promise?" she asked.

"Yeeeeees! Now get in there!" he said impatiently. She went inside and he followed, shutting the door tightly behind them.

"What the hell are they up to?" Vince McMahon asked himself. He had to be sure he hadn't been hallucinating or something. Had he just heard the Undertaker, the Phenom, the Original Deadman, ask Batista to spank him in a really girly voice? And had he heard Batista reply in a voice that sounded strangely like the Undertaker's voice that he would? What? _What?_

He decided to go and confront the two. They were two of his best wrestlers, the cream of the crop of the Smackdown brand. Could it be possible, could it _really _be possible that his two primetime wrestlers were homosexuals? That they had some kind of kinky relationship behind the scenes? That they had more physical contact outside the ring than in the ring?

"Damn it, I'm the boss, and I deserve to know!" he exclaimed, so loud that he scared himself. He swaggered over to the door his two best wrestlers had just disappeared through, surprised to see Torrie Wilson's name on the door. He held up his hand to knock, then thought about what he was about to do.

"Vincent K. McMahon? Knock on a door? Puh-lease! I can go anywhere I damn well please, I own all of them!" He grinned, then, 5 minutes later, he stepped boldly into Torrie Wilson's locker room and, after staring at the scene before him, asked the one question that had been previously asked by the Undertaker... "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

**Uh oh! Mr. McMahon isn't pleased one bit with what he finds!**


	4. You Have My Body!

**WWE owns them all!**

"We can explain, Vince," Torrie-Taker said, trying to stand up. She couldn't, though, because her body was so tangled up with Taker-Batista's and Batista-Torrie's.

"How can you explain why you're playing half-naked Twister?" Vince asked angrily. "And you didn't even invite me! You know that's my favorite game!"

"Sorry, man," Taker-Batista said, entangling himself from the other two and standing up. "We were just trying to lighten up the seriousness of our situation."

"What situation?" Vince demanded. "And why, Batista, do you sound like the Undertaker?"

"Torrie, care to explain?" Batista-Torrie asked from the floor. Vince looked suspiciously down at Torrie's body, wondering why she sounded like Batista, and wondering in general what the hell was going on between the three.

"Mr. McMahon, I made a machine that allows people to switch bodies. I call it Project TMTYGITWLYSBWS," Torrie-Taker said.

"Why not just call it 'The Machine That You Get In That Will Let You Switch Bodies With Someone'?" Vince asked. "I mean, that would make _much _more sense."

"I _know_!" Torrie-Taker said. "These two guys insisted that I call it the Body Switcher. As if that makes _any _sense at all!"

Taker-Batista and Batista-Torrie looked at each other and rolled their eyes, both thinking that Torrie was one dumb bitch and Vince was a dumb bitch, too.

"Let me ask one question... Why do you look like the Undertaker and sound like Torrie?" Vince asked, eyebrows raised.

"I'm getting there. Just let me explain, please," Torrie-Taker said. "Maybe you should sit down."

Vince sat down, anxious to know what was going on. Batista-Torrie sat next to him and Vince instinctively put his arm around him and pulled him close, not knowing that he had his arm around Batista.

Torrie-Taker started explaining. With every sentence, every new tidbit of information, Vince's mouth dropped more and more.

"Close your mouth before something flies in there, McMahon," Taker-Batista said when Torrie was done talking. "Or at least pick up your lip off the damn ground."

"Or rather, pick up your lips off a monkey's ass," Batista-Torrie said out of nowhere in an innocent, high-pitched voice.

"Ok, wait a minute. So you're saying that _you _are Torrie Wilson," Vince said to whoever the hell was occupying the Undertaker's body.

"Yes," Torrie-Taker answered. "And that arm you have around my body, well, you're really groping Batista."

"Hi, Vince," Batista-Torrie said, winking at him.

"Oh shit!" Vince said, jumping up. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, it's not a joke, McMahon," Taker-Batista said. "Do you think I want this steroid pumped up body?"

"Hey, you jerk," Batista-Torrie said angrily. "I do _not _use steroids!"

"Yeah, whatever," Taker-Batista replied to Batista-Torrie. To Vince, he said, "The whole thing is, we don't know how to switch our bodies back."

"I'd think you would just have to get in the machine and do what you did the first time," Vince said. "I mean, that seems sensible."

"Damn it, Vince, you're a fucking genius, dude!" Batista-Torrie said. He jumped up and ran over to Vince. He then proceeded to give Vince a nice, sloppy kiss right on the lips.

"Get the fuck off me, you fag!" Vince screamed. "I don't do guys."

"So-_rry_!" Batista-Torrie said. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "You probably need lots of Viagra just to get it up anyway, you old bastard."

"So we just need to go back in the machine?" Torrie-Taker asked, interrupting before things got out of hand between the guys.

"Makes sense," Vince said. "Now, as your boss, I demand that everyone gets in the machine now. We need things to get back to normal as quickly as possible, and then this accident will never, eeeeeeeever be spoken of again."

"Quit stealing my lines, Vince!" Chris Jericho said, coming out of the bathroom.

"What the hell are you doing here at Smackdown? You're from Raw!" Taker-Batista exclaimed.

"Duh, I was spying!" Jericho said. "And boy do I have dirt on you guys!"

"Grab him!" Vince yelled.

Jericho tried to escape, but they all grabbed him, and pretty soon all five of them were huddled together in Torrie's machine. Torrie started pushing buttons, and the machine started to shake the same way that it had done before.

"Why the fuck are we shaking?" Jericho asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I feel like we're on a roller coaster or something," Vince agreed, then quickly shut up. Had he actually just agreed with Chris Jericho on something?

"It'll be over in a sec," Torrie-Taker said.

As usual, she was right. The machine stopped shaking.

"Oh hell yeah, I got my body back!" Taker yelled happily. He rounded on Torrie. "Now you get that spanking I promised."

"Yippie!" Torrie shouted. She also had her own body back, and she was so happy! Taker was finally going to spank her!

Taker grabbed Torrie's hand and practically dragged her from the locker room to the parking lot, telling her all the things he was going to do to her when they got to the hotel.

"Ooh, I can go call Melena now!" Batista said excitedly. "I mean, it was nice having boobs and all but I think I prefer pulling them over having them!" He went out of the machine and quickly left the locker room, in search of Melena.

Chris Jericho and Vince McMahon stood face to face in the machine.

"Something's not right here, Junior," Jericho said to Vince. He put his hand up to his face. "God, I have so many wrinkles!"

Vince felt his own face, or rather, the face of the body he now occupied. "What the hell? My skin hasn't been this nice and smooth in a long time!"

They looked at each other, then both yelled, "You've got my body!"

Jericho was silent, thinking of all the things he could do while occupying Vince McMahon's body. Oh, he could do a hell of a lot! Vince McMahon was a very powerful man...

"Jericho, what the fuck are you just standing there for? Help me figure out how to work this damn thing!" Vince ordered, pressing random buttons on the control panel. "Can you believe Torrie Wilson actually made this? These buttons have words in some other kind of language... Help me out!"

Jericho laughed, a laugh that started out low and ended up very high. It was the typical evil laugh. He laughed and laughed until his eyes leaked. Then he stopped suddenly. "Yeah, I don't think I feel like helping you right now."

"But I'm Vincent K. McMahon! I'm your boss! You have to listen to me!" Vince sputtered.

"But I have your body," Jericho said. "And I'm about to have a little fun..."

And with that last remark, Jericho left out of the machine and headed straight for the parking lot, where he knew a limousine would be waiting for him...

**What's Chris Jericho gonna do with Vince's body?**


	5. Weird Encounters

**WWE owns everybody!**

**I'm sorry, everyone, I know the whole name thing confused everyone. I got kinda confused writing it! But I had to add the second part to each name just to make sure we didn't all forget which person was in which body...**

_**Vince-Jericho: Vince McMahon in Chris Jericho's body**_

_**Jericho-Vince: Chris Jericho in Vince McMahon's body**_

_**IN THE SMACKDOWN ARENA...**_

Vince-Jericho made his way out into the hallway from Torrie Wilson's room. That idiot Chris Jericho had run off with his body and he hadn't even tried to stop him. He had just stood there, dumbfounded. _What the hell am I going to do_, he asked himself worriedly.

"Is that who I think it is?" came a shrill voice from behind that he recognized as his daughter Stephanie's. He turned around to face her. "And by God, it is! Can you explain to me why the hell you're here on Smackdown when you belong on Raw?"

"Steph..." Vince-Jericho began.

She silenced him by placing a finger to his lips, and her whole attitude changed. "Shhh. I know why you came," she said in a soft voice. "But I still can't believe you came all the way here just to see me... I think you're very deserving of a special treat."

Vince-Jericho shook his head and backed up as she advanced upon him.

"Oh, we've had so much fun in the past..." Her voice trailed off as she kissed him. He kept his lips tightly closed. She leaned back to look at him. "What's wrong? You seem a little tense..." She searched his face, looking for some clues to tell her what was wrong with him. Finding none, she sighed. "Look, I can help you out tonight. Meet me at my room at the hotel." She trailed a finger down his chest and gave a gentle squeeze to his crotch area. "I'll be waiting."

Vince-Jericho watched his once-innocent baby girl walk away. "Oh my God, my daughter is a slut! And... She's been doing Chris Jericho!" he exclaimed, shaking his head in obvious awe and shock.

_**IN THE LIMO...**_

"To the hotel, Junior. I assume you know the way?" Jericho-Vince asked the chauffeur of Vince's limo. The chauffeur nodded and pretty soon they were off.

Jericho-Vince was holding the cell phone he'd found in Vince's pocket. He sat back in the limo and tried hard to relax. He wasn't particularly happy with Vince's body, seeing that this body was quite a bit older than his. Still, he wasn't going to give Vince back his body, at least not until he had a little fun first.

He quickly dialed Stephanie McMahon's number and tried to disguise her voice when she said hello.

"Hey, Princess, it's daddy," he said to her in a gruff voice that sounded nothing like his voice or Vince's.

She was quiet. Then... "What's wrong with your voice, Daddy?"

"I must be coming down with something," he said, and went on as if that clarified why his voice sounded the way it did. "Look, I need a favor from my favorite baby girl."

"What kind of favor?" she asked in a voice that made him know that at that moment, she was narrowing her eyes as she held the phone to her ear.

"I need you to go on the next taping of Raw," he told her.

"But Daddy, you know I'm Smackdown all the way!" she protested.

"Oh, Princess, is that a no?" he asked in a sad voice.

She sighed. "Well what do you want me to do on there?" she asked finally,

"You have to hook up with Chris Jericho, of course!" he said, as if it had been obvious the whole time.

"Hook up with Jericho?" she asked. From her tone of voice, he knew that she would enjoy it a lot. She had rather enjoyed it on past occasions... "But Daddy, Paul will blow his stack if he finds out about that."

"Well, he won't," he said decidedly. "I can keep a secret and I'm sure Chris can, too. The question is, can you?

"Oh, Daddy, there are some things you still haven't figured out about me..." Her voice trailed off and he could only imagine what she was thinking.

"Ok, Steph-baby, I gotta go," he told her as the limo rolled to a stop at the hotel.

"Steph-baby?" she asked, confused. "That's uh...that's someone else's special nickname for me."

"Whose?" he asked, enjoying the idea of her squirming as she tried to answer the question.

"Just someone I know," she said uncomfortably. "I have to go."

He laughed and the door opened. He stepped out in front of the most expensive hotel in the city. "Oh, I'm gonna love this..."

_**IN THE SMACKDOWN ARENA...**_

"What a weird phone call," Stephanie said out loud as she walked out to her rental in the parking lot. "And he called me Steph-baby. That's Jericho's nickname for me!"

And speaking of Chris Jericho... Why had he been acting so damn weird earlier? The thought that he didn't want her anymore kind of unnerved her. She really looked forward to hooking up with him because every encounter she had with him was awesome and sexy and always left her wanting more...

She got into her rental and headed to the most expensive hotel in the city, wondering why her daddy had called her when he was going to be sharing a room with her anyway...

_**IN THE MOST EXPENSIVE HOTEL IN THE CITY...**_

Jericho-Vince walked around the penthouse, smiling at the luxury around him. Oh, this was gonna be fun. There was a jacuzzi, too? He figured this would be one thing that he would love most about being Vince McMahon for the night...

He was soaking in the jacuzzi with his eyes closed when Stephanie's voice called out to him. "Hi, Daddy!"

"Uh, what are you doing here, baby?" he asked her.

"Don't be silly, Daddy. You know I'm sharing this suite with you," she answered.

Jericho-Vince gulped. How was he going to survive the night sharing a suite with her and not touching her? Usually when they shared a suite together, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. And now that they were going to be sharing a suite tonight, he was stuck in her dad's body so of course he couldn't even consider touching her.

"Oh, let me go put on a bikini and join you, Daddy," Stephanie said. "I sure could use some relaxation. I'm so tense!"

He watched her walk away and decided there was only one thing left to do. He had wanted to drag this out for maybe a day or two, but nature called and he couldn't very well use Vince's body to screw his own daughter now could he?

He hopped out of the jacuzzi, grabbed Vince's cell phone, and dialed his own cell phone number, hoping that Vince was still at the Smackdown arena...

_**IN THE SMACKDOWN ARENA PARKING LOT...**_

Vince-Jericho felt the phone vibrating in his pants pocket. He was surprised when he saw his own number flash across the Caller ID.

"Where the hell are you?" he yelled at Jericho-Vince.

"I'm at the hotel, in the penthouse with your daughter. Please, _puh-lease_, tell me you're still at the arena," Jericho-Vince said desperately.

"I'm in the parking lot. Can't find your damn rental," Vince-Jericho said. "Why?"

"We need to switch back right away," Jericho-Vince said.

"You finally said something right. Well, what are you waiting for? Get your ass over here!"

"Great, ass clown. I'll be there soon," Jericho-Vince said. "I gotta go."

"Oh, one more thing before you go, Jericho," Vince-Jericho said. "We're going to have to have a little talk when we switch back."

"What for?" Jericho-Vince asked.

"Let's just say I had an encounter with my daughter here a little while ago and she told me about your freaky little past together..."

Jericho-Vince didn't know how to reply to that, so he just hung up the phone. He'd think of the consequences later. Right now, he had to get his body back so he could get with Stephanie...

**Ok, slightly boring, I know. But I'm out of ideas and I have to end this quick. Reading a boring story is like dying a slooooow, painful death!**


	6. The Finale

**WWE owns everybody!**

_**Taker-Torrie: The Undertaker in Torrie Wilson's body**_

_**Torrie-Taker: Torrie Wilson in the Undertaker's body**_

_**IN THE MOST EXPENSIVE HOTEL IN THE CITY, IN THE LOBBY...**_

Jericho-Vince had just thought of something important. How the hell were they going to work the body switching machine? He had remembered Vince McMahon saying that the buttons had some kind of different language on them. Jericho himself was multilingual, but he and Vince knew the same languages and if Vince didn't recognize the language on there then how would he?

"There's only one person who can work that damn machine," Jericho-Vince decided. He wondered where the hell he would find Torrie Wilson at this time of the evening. Then he figured he'd go and ask the little young lady over at the check-in desk.

"Hey there, pretty lady," Jericho-Vince said to the woman. "How's it going?"

"It's going pretty great, Mr. McMahon," she said with a smile. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could tell me if one of my WWE divas, Torrie Wilson, was staying here tonight?"

"Let me check," she said. She started typing away on her computer, and a minute later, she looked up at him. "I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "There's no Torrie Wilson here... Isn't she that blonde girl though?"

"Yeah, she's a blonde bimbo," he answered. When she gave him a funny look, he quickly corrected himself. "Yes, she's a blonde."

"I saw a blonde chick come in here on the Undertaker's arm. Would you like to check his room?" she asked.

"Oh, that would be great," he said, leaning on the desk and giving the girl the once-over. Nice, but compared to Stephanie this chick was nothing.

"His room is located on the 4th floor, room 404," she said.

"Thanks so much," Jericho-Vince said, and then started to run across the lobby.

He must've forgotten whose body he was in and how old it really was, because he was so surprised when one second he was running like the wind and the next second he was flat on his face on the carpet.

"You ok, Mr. McMahon?" came some random person's concerned question.

"Ow! Shit! Yeah, I'm alright," Jericho-Vince said, rubbing his leg. The stupid thing had just went out on him. He turned over and sat there on his ass for a minute. Then, he got up and limped over to the elevator. The sooner he found Torrie, the better!

_**IN THE MOST EXPENSIVE HOTEL IN THE CITY, ON THE 4TH FLOOR, ROOM 404...**_

The Undertaker was up in his room, holding a beer can in one hand and a remote in the other. Torrie Wilson sat on the bed next to him, babbling on about some random shit. It took all Taker had not to grab a shirt or something and tie it around her mouth so she wouldn't be able to talk.

"And so then when she said that, I just told her to shut the hell up!" Torrie finished. She giggled and then looked over at him, waiting to see what he would say.

"Ha ha," he forced himself to say. "Why don't you take your own advice sometimes?"

There was silence in the room. Well, silence, for about 10 seconds before Torrie opened her mouth again.

"Taker, um, about that spanking you promised..." she began slowly and carefully.

"Yeah? What about it?" Taker asked, downing another beer.

It was his 5th beer since he'd brought Torrie back to his room. He was turning into "Stone Cold" Steve Austin, and it was all Torrie's fault. The silly girl was making him drink. She was so dumb, he couldn't believe he'd actually brought her back to is room! It had to be her looks. Yeah, that was it.

"Can I have it now?" she asked shyly.

"Fine, fine, if that means you won't talk again for the rest of the night," he said grudgingly.

"Oh, I promise I won't talk again tonight. My lips are sealed!" she said happily. She zipped her lips and made a motion of throwing the key away. "See, I just threw away the key!"

Taker sighed, then pulled her over his lap and pulled her pants down.

"Your butt's awfully pale," he noticed.

"I know. It's like... I'm like a dead girl or something. Isn't it weird?" she asked. "I bet your butt's pretty pale, too, since you're a dead man and all."

Last straw. He lifted his hand high up in the air and brought it down hard on her butt. She squealed and he laughed when his huge handprint showed up red on her butt. He raised his hand in the air and was just about to bring it down again when there was a frantic pounding on the door. He stood up quickly, glad for any interruption, and walked over to the door, not caring at all when Torrie fell on the floor. When he opened it, he was surprised to find Vince McMahon standing there.

"I need Torrie," Jericho-Vince said as soon as Taker opened the door. "Are you willing to let me borrow her for maybe half an hour?"

"Vince, I love you!" Taker said, giving Jericho-Vince a bear hug. "Borrow Torrie and don't bring her back, please!"

"Don't hug me, ass clown. Just give me the girl!" Jericho-Vince said impatiently.

"I don't n-need no attitude from you, Vince," Taker said. "Or you won't get the girl."

Jericho-Vince didn't want to hear this shit Taker was talking. Without really considering the consequences, he punched him as hard as he could in the stomach.

Taker doubled over onto his knees. Jericho-Vince limped into the room and grabbed Torrie's arm. "Let's go!"

When they walked by Taker again, Jericho-Vince kicked Taker in the ass as hard as he could. "That'll teach you to treat me like I'm a commoner like yourself. Ass clown." Then he laughed and pulled Torrie out into the hall.

"Did you get a tattoo of a hand on your ass?" Jericho-Vince asked, noticing the huge handprint on her butt.

"I don't think I did. But maybe that's what the doctor was doing when he made me lay on my stomach and started probing me with that really big tool in my butt," she said.

"Oh gosh, you're clueless," Jericho-Vince said, shaking his head. He dragged her down the hall with her pants still down and her ass flashing those who were lucky enough to be around to see it.

_**IN THE SMACKDOWN ARENA...**_

"The Undertaker is going to kick my ass!" Jericho-Vince muttered as he dragged Torrie Wilson out of the limo and into the arena a few minutes later. Just the thought made him head to Torrie's locker room even faster.

"What are we doing back here?" Torrie asked as they got closer and closer to her locker room.

"Hello, you have to switch my body back," Jericho-Vince said. "I mean, can't you tell I'm not Vinnie Mac?"

"Oh, you aren't? But you look so much like him!" Torrie said. "I never knew he had a twin!"

"Damn, I never knew you were so dense!" Jericho-Vince exclaimed as they finally reached her locker room.

"Thanks for the compliment," she said, beaming. "No one has ever called me that before."

Jericho-Vince rolled his eyes and shoved her into the locker room, locking the door behind them.

"Finally, you slow ass," Vince-Jericho exclaimed. "You took forever, so I had to find something interesting to do while I waited."

"Dude, my fly is open. Have you been..." Jericho-Vince raised an eyebrow.

"What's this wet stuff on the wall?" Torrie asked, pointing at where some sticky white globs of _something_ was slowly dripping down the wall next to them.

"You really don't know?" Jericho-Vince asked her with an incredulous look on his face.

"No. Maybe I should taste it." She reached a finger out and caught a little drop on her finger, then brought it up to her mouth. Both men watched her as she tasted it... "Tastes pretty good! Did you make that, Vince?"

"Yep," Vince-Jericho said with a smile. "Now can you... What the hell are you doing?"

"We can't let this stuff go to waste!" Torrie exclaimed, eagerly licking the wall. "It tastes really good!"

Vince-Jericho and Jericho-Vince looked at each other with identical looks of awe on their faces.

Just then, there was a fierce pounding on the door. "Open up, Vince! I know your snobby ass is in there, and I'm gonna get you, sucka!" Taker yelled from the other side of the door. He was rubbing his butt because it was hurting from where he'd been kicked. NO ONE kicked him in the ass and got away with it!

"Quick! In the machine!" Jericho-Vince yelled. Vince-Jericho disappeared inside the machine, but Torrie kept licking the wall. "You can lick the mess off the wall later, Torrie. Come on!" He dragged her kicking and screaming into the machine, just as the door to the locker room fell down and Taker stepped inside.

"Start pushing buttons already!" Vince-Jericho screamed as Taker stormed over to the machine.

Taker stepped inside just as the machine started to shake. "Oh no, not this again!" The beer in his stomach was getting all shaken up. "Make it stop!" he wailed, but of course they couldn't have stopped it anyway. The shaking proved to be too much, and suddenly Taker's face turned a sickly shade of green.

Throw up went everywhere. They all tried to avoid it but their attempts were in vain. They all got covered, except for Chris Jericho's body. Taker let out a loud burp. Then the machine stopped shaking and they all just stood there looking at each other.

"I have my body back...and it's not drenched in puke!" Jericho exclaimed happily. He looked around at the other three. "I'm never, eeeeeeeever coming back to Smackdown again!" He got the hell out of there as fast as he could and ran for his life, headed for the parking garage and eventually to the penthouse suite at the most expensive hotel in the city, where he hoped Stephanie was still in the jacuzzi.

The other three stood in the machine just looking at each other. They all seemed to be in some kind of a daze.

"Well, I have my body back," Vince McMahon said. He looked down at his expensive suit, which was covered in puke that reeked of beer. It was ruined. Without saying another word, he started to leave the machine.

"Wait. I'm not through with you!" Taker's voice said, but it came from Torrie's body. "Come back here, McMahon!"

"You'll never catch me, fat ass!" Vince yelled, and took off running, only to find himself sitting flat on his own ass a few seconds later. "My leg! Oh, the pain!"

"I got you now!" Taker-Torrie said, smiling mischievously as Vince backed up into a corner. He put his hand around Vince's neck and brought him to a standing position. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson about kicking me in my ass!"

"What's going on in here?" came a voice. The door to the locker room had just opened, and JBL had entered the room.

JBL watched as Torrie Wilson's body dragged Vince McMahon to his feet, then proceeded to pick him up and chokeslam him through the floor.

"And that's what you get for messing with the deadman!" Taker-Torrie exclaimed. He rolled his eyes up into the back of his head and cut his throat. Seconds later, he gave Vince a Last Ride that left Vince laid out somewhere below the floor.

"Hey, baby, how's it going?" Torrie-Taker said to JBL in a flirty voice. Of course, JBL knew nothing of the body switching machine so he thought Taker was hitting on him.

"What the hell? I'm getting out of here!" JBL looked around the room with eyes as wide as saucers, then ran for his life just like Jericho had done only minutes before. He knew he was going to be needing some serious therapy after seeing that shit!

Taker-Torrie turned around to look at Torrie-Taker. "Now switch us back."

Torrie-Taker didn't hesitate. They got into the machine, which reeked of puke, and were switched back immediately.

Taker left the locker room minutes later. Vince McMahon, covered in puke that smelled like beer, was still laid out from the chokeslam and the Last Ride and Torrie Wilson was (what else?) licking the wall...

**And that's the end, folks! Sorry, I didn't know what to say but I had to end this story. I got bored with it and ran out of ideas...**


End file.
